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LiB^ARY 

UNIVERSITY  of"  ILLINOIS, 


2 Jejf 


3 A vH 


A Memorial  Sermon 

Preached  in  the  Church  of  the  Puritans, 
New  York  City,  by  the  Rev.  Charles  J. 
Young,  D.D.,  Pastor,  December  13,  1903, 
in  memory  of  John  Dwight 


Printed  fay  Tobias  A.  Wright 
New  York 
1903 


Sermon 


“.  . . And  thou  shalt  be  missed,  because  thy  seat  will  be  empty.” 

I Samuel , xx,  28. 

TT  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  Bible  language 
that  it  frequently  suggests  a great  deal  more 
than  it  expresses ; that  is,  it  not  only  states  a fact, 
or  relates  an  incident,  but  the  very  method  of  this 
statement — the  phraseology  used — awakens  trains 
of  thought  that  stretch  far  away  beyond  the 
sources  or  circumstance  which  gave  rise  to  them. 
The  original  application  may  be  very  local,  and 
limited,  but  the  ultimate  sweep  of  the  truth,  its 
principle  and  scope,  may  be  as  wide  as  the  world, 
and  as  broad  as  humanity.  The  illustrations  of 
this  fact  are  scattered  broadcast  all  through  the 
Bible,  but  there  is  not  time  to  refer  to  any  other 
than  the  one  selected  this  morning  as  our  text. 

These  were  the  words  of  Jonathan  to  his  young 
friend  David,  at  a time  when  it  became  necessary 
for  him  to  explain  the  latter’s  absence  at  the 
King’s  table.  You  remember  that  David  was 
accustomed  to  occupy  a prominent  position  at  the 
royal  feasts. 

But  the  King  had  become  intensely  jealous  of 


David  and  bitter  toward  him,  on  account  of  his 
growing  influence  among  the  people,  and  so  it  be- 
came necessary  for  him  to  fly  in  secret  from  the 
palace  and  presence  of  the  King.  But  the  two 
friends,  devoted  to  each  other  with  a loyal,  loving, 
manly  friendship,  had  managed  to  meet  quietly 
away  off  in  the  fields  by  themselves.  It  was  at 
such  an  interview  these  words  were  uttered.  The 
Feast  of  the  New  Moon  was  to  occur  on  the  mor- 
row, and  King  Saul  would  unquestionably  discover 
the  absence  of  David,  so  Jonathan  anticipating 
trouble  exclaims,  “Thou  shalt  be  missed,  because 
thy  seat  will  be  empty.” 

It  is  long,  long  ages  since  the  words  were 
spoken.  Vast  and  varied  changes  have  swept  over 
this  old,  sad,  weary  world  since  the  time  when  the 
two  friends  met  together,  in  the  fields  of  Gibeah. 
In  material  things  at  least,  the  race  today  looks  out 
on  a “new  heaven  and  a new  earth.”  And  yet  in 
spite  of  it  all,  time,  change,  progress,  transforma- 
tions, here  they  are  the  same  words  just  as  fresh 
and  fitting  and  timely  as  when  they  first  fell  from 
the  lips  of  the  true-hearted  Jonathan  long  ago. 

As  applied  to  the  venerable  and  honored  friend 
in  whose  memory  this  service  is  held;  with  respect 
to  the  wide  and  important  interests  which  are 
today  so  deeply  affected  by  his  absence,  and  as  the 
aptest  expression  I could  find  of  the  testimony  of  a 


4 


cloud  of  witnesses  representing  these  interests,  I 
take  up  that  old  cry  of  friendship  and  bereave- 
ment,— Oh  venerable  Father  in  Israel ! 

“ Oh  good  gray  head  which  all  men  knew, 

* * * * That  tower  of  strength 

Which  stood  foursquare  to  all  the  winds  that  blew," 

surely  “thou  shalt  be  missed,  because  thy  seat 
will  be  empty.” 

In  yonder  home  where  with  patriarchal  dignity 
and  grace  thou  didst  rule  by  love  ; in  the  commer- 
cial centre  where  for  fifty-seven  years  thy  name 
was  a synonym  of  business  honor,  integrity  and 
fair  dealing  with  thy  fellow  man;  in  this  Church 
where  every  page  of  her  history,  every  step 
of  her  progress,  every  agency  of  her  benevolent 
and  missionary  work  bears  witness  to  thy  unstinted 
and  ungrudging  generosity, — in  all  these  direc- 
tions thou  shalt  be  sorely  and  deeply  missed 
“because  thy  seat  will  be  empty.” 

Nor  here  alone.  In  the  wider  fields  of  the 
Redeemer’s  Kingdom,  in  the  mission  work  at  home 
and  abroad,  in  institutions  of  education  and  art, 
in  the  South  Land  with  the  destitute  and  neglected 
mountain  whites,  among  the  American  Indians, 
freedmen,  seamen;  everywhere  that  the  good 
Spirit  of  God  directed  thy  charities,  thou  shalt  be 
this  day  mourned  as  well  as  missed  with  unfeigned 
sorrow. 


5 


And  yet,  let  there  be  no  mistake  as  to  the 
meaning  of  the  message  and  service  this  morning. 
We  are  not  here  to  attempt  to  tabulate  the  long 
list  of  benefactions  of  this  honored  man.  I believe 
such  an  attempt  would  be  as  distasteful  to  him 
and  to  those  who  are  nearest  to  him,  as  it  would 
be  impossible  to  accomplish.  I believe  Mr. 
Dwight,  as  much  as  any  man  who  ever  made  good 
use  of  life,  illustrated  Archbishop  Trench’s  beauti- 
ful prayer  : “ God  grant  that  day  by  day  we  may  do 
more  and  may  esteem  it  less.”  Neither  are  we 
here,  in  the  least  degree,  to  idealize  or  spiritualize 
a character  whose  chief  encouragement  for  other 
men  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  was  intensely  human. 
The  very  opposite  is  the  end  in  view.  It  is  to  show 
what  a real  human  life  can  become  when  that  life 
is  surrendered  to  and  permeated  by  the  spirit  of 
his  Lord  and  Master,  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  to  let  men 
know  that  there  is  a power  in  the  religion  of 
Christ  to  stimulate  to  the  highest,  noblest,  grand- 
est things,  when  that  religion  is  permitted  to 
have  its  way  in  the  human  heart  and  character. 
It  is  to  let  men  feel  that  Christian  philanthrophy 
and  usefulness  have  their  spring  and  source  away 
back  in  the  heart  of  Him  who  said,  “ It  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.”  That  is  the 
object  of  this  service,  and  I claim  for  it  a place 
of  very  high  and  timely  significance.  For,  breth- 


6 


ren,  from  such  a life  proceeds  the  mightiest  argu- 
ment that  can  be  offered  to  men  for  fair  dealing, 
and  uprightness  in  business  transactions. 

Such  a life  is  God  Almighty’s  grandest  protest 
against  the  far  too  common  violation  of  the 
ordinary  laws  of  common  honesty  in  business.  It 
is  the  best  object  lesson  in  the  world  for  the  young 
men  coming  to  the  front.  It  teaches  them  that 
real  success  is  not  what  a large  part  of  the  business 
world  now  regard  it.  It  is  not  a flash  in  the  pan. 
It  is  not  a lucky  hit,  or  fortunate  speculation.  And 
emphatically  it  is  not  the  bare-faced  robbery  of 
manipulated  values,  created  to  deceive  the  unwary 
who  in  their  innocence  and  ignorance  are  chasing 
rainbows.  Not  that,  is  the  foundation  of  any  such 
success  as  this  true  man  achieved. 

This  life,  just  passed  into  life  triumphant  and 
glorious — teaches  men  that  real  success,  the  success 
that  abides  and  endures,  is  a product  of  principles 
as  deep  and  changeless  as  the  throne  of  God. 
Principles  of  a living  faith  in  a living  God,  princi- 
ples of  an  enlightened  and  well  regulated 
conscience  responding  to  the  claims  of  moral  law 
and  Christain  obligation,  principles  that  rule  the 
heart  and  will, — and  let  us  say  with  reverent 
significance  the  pocket  also, — principles  whose  em- 
bodiment in  the  life  and  character  of  this  rare  man 
bring  to  his  memory  today  such  a tribute  of  love, 


7 


honor  and  regard,  as  but  very  few  men  of  fifty- 
seven  years  of  business  life  in  this  great  metropolis 
have  ever  been  crowned  with.  This  is  the  aim  of 
this  service.  Is  it  not  one  way  of  obeying  the 
Master’s  injunction,  “ Let  your  light  so  shine  before 
men  that  they  may  see  your  good  works  and  glorify 
your  Father  which  is  in  Heaven.” 

Like  many  another  a good  man,  like  George 
Washington,  Abraham  Lincoln,  James  A.  Garfield, 
John  Ruskin,  John  Wesley,  and  a long  line  of  the 
most  illustrious  men  this  world  has  ever  known, 
John  Dwight  owed  a great  deal  to  the  fact  that  he 
was  born  right.  I mean  by  that,  not  merely  that 
he  was  born  in  the  grand  old  Bay  State  and  in 
South  Hadley — the  very  centre  of  rich  Colonial, 
Revolutionary  and  Puritan  history,  though  that 
was  certainly  a great  deal  taking  all  things  into 
consideration — but  I mean  what  Cowper  meant 
when  he  boasted  of  the  fact  that  he  was  “born  of 
parents  passed  into  the  skies,”  born  of  a God-fear- 
ing, God-respecting,  God-loving  mother.  There  is 
no  part  of  this  man’s  life  that  I have  ever  heard  of 
where  you  cannot  find  that  fact  illustrated.  The 
key  that  opens  the  treasury  of  his  experience,  his 
character  and  power  to  influence  and  help  men, 
lies  in  a single  sentence:  “the  Grace  of  God  and 
mother’s  training.” 

Take  one  or  two  illustrations,  I cannot  multiply 


8 


them  for  obvious  reasons.  In  1844  the  young  man 
went  West  to  the  Rock  River  country,  Illinois, 
there  secured  a sheep  ranch,  and  then  returned 
to  arrange  his  affairs,  intending  to  go  back  and 
settle  down  for  life  in  the  West.  The  mother  was 
aged  and  feeble  then,  and  the  distance  to  Illinois 
seemed  as  great  in  proportion  as  the  distance  to 
Alaska  would  seem  to  any  of  us  here  this  morning, 
if  similarly  situated.  So  a great  grief  settled  on 
the  mother’s  heart  at  the  idea  of  what  was  perhaps 
a life-long  separation  from  her  son.  It  decided  him 
in  a moment.  He  gave  up  the  West  and  came 
to  a city  where  he  could  reach  that  mother  in  a 
night  and  day.  So  mother-love  decided  the  point 
between  what  was  then  the  far  West  and  life  in 
New  York  City  for  fifty-seven  years. 

Very  often  he  bore  testimony  with  humble 
but  loyal  love,  to  the  fact  that  if  he  ever 
accomplished  any  good  in  the  world,  or  did  any- 
thing to  help  his  fellow  men  by  the  use  of  means 
God  had  given  him,  he  owed  it  all  to  his  mother’s 
sixpence,  and  to  some  words  she  said  to  him  when 
a boy,  as  she  put  that  sixpence  in  his  hands.  It 
was  the  night  of  the  monthly  concert  of  prayer  for 
foreign  missions,  and  the  sixpence  was  his  to  do 
just  what  he  pleased  with.  Now  John  Dwight 
would  not  have  been  the  boy  he  certainly  was 
in  all  that  that  implies,  if  there  had  not  been 


9 


a sharp  struggle  in  his  heart  between  the  heathen 
and  himself, — but  the  heathen  won. 

Now  will  you  mark  the  significance  of  that 
victory  through  the  far  reaching  streams  of  beni- 
ficence  that  have  made  glad  many  a waste  place, 
since  they  started  from  that  little  spring  in  South  ~* 
Hadley  so  long  ago.  On  the  first  Sabbath  of  last 
month,  we  had  our  annual  offering  for  foreign  mis- 
sions in  this  church.  He  was  then  in  his  last  ill- 
ness, and  undoubtedly  he  knew  it,  for  the  mind 
remained  clear  to  the  very  end.  One  of  the  family 
went  home  from  the  morning  service  and  said 
something  regarding  it,  and  the  .object  of  the 
offering  that  day.  He  called  for  his  check  book 
and  instantly  gave  the  generous  sum  which  made 
the  offering  so  large  this  year.''  Mother  passion  in 
the  boy’s  life,  and  mother  passion  strong  in  death 
at  eighty-four!  Oh  mothers,  mothers!  what  im- 
mense possibilities  God  has  placed  in  your  hands 
for  moulding  lives  and  developing  character! 
Between  that  sixpence  in  South  Hadley  so  long 
ago,  and  that  check  on  the  death  bed  last  month, 
what  a long,  long  record  of  munificent  giving 
there  has  been.  And  yet,  my  friends,  as  the 
streams  are  to  the  spring  in  the  mountain,  as  the 
oak  tree  is  to  the  acorn,  so  is  that  record  of  gen- 
erous giving  to  the  mother’s  love  and  the  mother’s 
sixpence  in  that  old  New  England  Christian 


io 


home.  Verily  that  woman  in  France  was*  right 
when  she  said  to  Napoleon:  “What  France  needs 
most  is  good  mothers.” 

And  so  now  we  can  understand  more  clearly  I 
think,  why  it  was  that  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
everywhere,  he  gave  wisely,  gave  intelligently, 
gave  with  judgment,  yet  so  largely  and  so  con- 
stantly for  the  cause  of  God  and  the  wellfare  of  his 
fellow  men.  Shall  I say  here  what  I have  the 
very  best  possible  authority  for  saying,  that  he 
gave  not  because  he  did  not  know  the  value  of 
every  dollar  thus  given,  that  is,  not  because  he  did 
not  have  any  natural  feeling  of  reluctance  in 
giving  it.  He  did.^  But  he  gave  because  the  grace 
of  God  and  his  Christian  mother  taught  him  effec- 
tively that  “ None  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no 
man  dieth  to  himself,  for  whether  we  live  we  live 
unto  the  Lord  or  whether  we  die  we  die  unto  the 
Lord.”  Hence,  his  giving  was  a majestic  testi- 
mony to.  the  power  of  Christ  to  overcome  natural 
tendencies. 

But  John  Dwight  gave  himself  as  well  as  his 
substance  to  the  work  of  the  Master.  He  did  not 
fail  in  the  effort  and  labor  necessary  for  the  exten- 
sion of  Christ’s  kingdom.  With  his  gifts  went  also 
with  equal  generosity  his  personal  activity  as 
officer  and  worker.  From  the  time  of  his  early 
manhood  until  advanced  in  age,  so  I have  been 


informed,  he  was  a teacher  in  the  Sabbath  school. 
When  an  elder  in  the  Chelsea  Presbyterian  Church, 
of  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  E.  Dunlap  Smith  was  then 
the  pastor,  he  conducted  for  many  years  a bible 
class  composed  of  both  young  men  and  women, 
and  taught  from  year  to  year  the  epistle  of  Paul 
to  the  Romans,  often  spending  the  most  of  his 
leisure  moments  during  the  entire  week,  and 
sometimes  studying  as  many  as  twenty  hours,  in  his 
preparation  for  this  class.  Besides  this  labor  in 
his  own  church  he  interested  himself  in  the  work 
of  the  American  Sunday  School  Union,  and  for  a 
number  of  years  taught  a class  of  young  men  in 
Union  Sunday  School,  No.  120,  on  Ninth  Avenue. 

As  to  Mr.  Dwight’s  relation  to  this  church  it 
becomes  a great  deal  more  difficult  for  me  to  speak, 
and  the  difficulty  is  too  obvious  to  need  explana- 
tion.XThe  first  thousand  dollars  that  secured  the 
site  on  which  this  building  stands  today,  came  from 
that  liberal  hand,  and  that  organ  too,  that  has  rung 
out  God’s  praises,  which  he  loved  to  listen  to,  is  but 
the  resonant  monument  of  the  same  liberality. 
Twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago  a crisis  came  to 
the  struggling  congregation  as  recorded  in  that 
beautiful  little  book  of  my  predecessor,  Dr.  Clark, 
“ The  Story  of  the  Church  of  the  Puritans.”  The 
mortgage  was  about  to  be  forclosed  and  the  prop- 
erty taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  little  flock,  but 


the  one  foremost  to  the  rescue  with  means  to  save 
it  was  the  one  in  whose  memory  we  gather  here 
this  morning. 

I sat  in  his  summer  home,  several  years  ago, 
at  Mount  Holyoke,  when  he  told  me  of  a message 
that  he  had  just  received  from  Northfield,  the 
home  of  Dwight  L.  Moody,  and  there,  by  degrees, 

I got  this  touching  story.  • When  Moody’s  little 
library  was  burned  to  ashes  in  the  great  Chicago 
fire,  and  the  news  was  printed  here  in  the  New 
York  papers, — the  very  day  that  he  read  the  story 
a telegram  flashed  to  Chicago  with  a large  contri- ' 
bution  to  replace  the  books  that  had  just  perished 
in  the  flames.  And  from  that  time  until  the  time 
I visited  him,  and  I have  no  doubt  until  the  end,  no 
year  passed  without  his  remembering  the  work  of 
this  great  evangelist. 

Then  too  he  had  a large  and  constant  interest  in 
the  work  of  the  Seaman  Friend's  Society  whose 
honored  Secretary,  Rev.  Dr.  W.  C.  Stett,  has  led 
our  devotions  this  morning.  An  interest,  not 
merely  as  Trustee  and  Director  and  constant 
attendant  at  the  noon-day  prayer  meeting,  but  in 
the  eternal  salvation  of  these  much  tempted  and 
neglected  men.  That  was  the  best  thing  about  Mr. 
Dwight’s  benificence,  it  was  permeated  through  and 
through  by  a high  and  holy  passion  for  the  souls  of 
men.  ‘'Sitting  in  his  own  home  here  in  the  city  he 


told  me  of  the  conversion  of  the  sailor,  John  Byrne. 
I had  never  heard  that  story.  Byrne  was  before 
my  time,  but  I distinctly  remember  how  absorbed 
in  interest  I was  as  he  told  me  the  details  of  that 
man’s  conversion,  how  the  spirit  of  God  filled  that 
rough,  wild  sailor,  until  he  became  a power  for  the 
salvation  for  men. 

I am  greatly  privileged  in  holding  in  my  hand 
today  a copy  of  the  Sailor's  Magazine  with  an 
article  from  Mr.  Dwight’s  pen.  It  is  said  this  is 
probably  the  only  article  he  ever  wrote  for  pub- 
lication.^ It  is  the  story  of  the  conversion  of  John 
Byrne  and  Mr.  Dwight’s  personal  experience  with 
him.  It  is  the  same  story  he  had  told  me  written 
out.  I wish  to  read  you  the  closing  sentences, 
for  nothing  could  illustrate  so  well  the  man’s 
exhalted  spiritual  mindedness  in  his  efforts  to  save 
and  uplift  humanity.  The  words  are  pathetic, 
beautiful,  and  above  all,  true. 

He  is  speaking  of  the  great  revival  of  1857,  in 
this  City  in  connection  with  the  story  of  John 
Byrne:  “Oh  the  wondrous  power  of  the  Spirit, 
that  Almighty  power  which  wrought  in  Christ 
when  He  rose  from  the  dead  ! Who  will  dare  say 
it  was  not  the  descent  again  of  cloven  tongues  to 
inspire  with  new  life  and  light  the  men  of  the  sea  ? 
For  the  past  thirty-five  years  this  light  has  shone 
forth  from  that  upper  chamber  of  the  Sailor’s 


14 


Home,  still  consecrated  to  prayer  and  private 
conversation.  That  it  may  continue  to  prove  a 
very  Bethel,  ‘ A house  of  God.’  to  many  a new  born 
soul,  will  ever  be  the  prayer  of  those  who  labor  for 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  men  of  the  sea.”  If  he 
had  never  written  another  line  for  the  press  that 
article  would  distinguish  him  as  having  the  spirit 
of  Christ,  yearning  like  his  Master  for  the  souls  of 
men. 

But  we  must  draw  a line  somewhere,  though  it 
is  difficult  to  be  brief  with  such  a subject.  I would 
like  to  speak  of  his  interest  in  literature  and  art 
shown  in  his  gift  to  Mount  Holyoke  College,  of  the 
beautiful  building  devoted  to  these  objects.  I 
would  like  to  speak  of  his  culture  and  tell  you  of 
the  nights  I sat  with  him  watching  the  stars 
through  his  telescopes,  on  the  top  of  Mt.  Holyoke.  • 
That  which  surprised  me  was  that  he  seemed  as 
familiar  with  the  heavenly  bodies,  with  the  names 
of  planets,  constellations  and  the  whole  surface  of 
the  moon,  mountains,  plains  and  valleys,  as  I was 
‘'•'with  the  streets  of  the  city  we  live  in.  I pass  this 
by;  this  is  not  a biography,  it  is  just  a flower 
dropped  upon  the  memory  of  a man  whom  to 
know  was  to  love. 

No  one  can  be  more  conscious  than  I of  the 
inadequacy  of  the  tribute.  The  impulse  to  enlarge 
is  checked  everywhere  by  the  obvious  limitations 


of  the  time  and  service.  But  one  great  truth  forces 
itself  upon  us  and  with  the  statement  of  it  I close. 

This  rapid  backward  look  however  dim  and 
narrow  over  such  a life,  compels  us  in  the  very 
nature  of  things  to  look  up  and  on  toward  another 
life  as  the  only  adequate  consummation  of  such  a 
character. 

It  seems  to  me  as  if  it  were  almost  an  insult  to 
common  reason  to  believe  that  this  life  so  grand 
and  full  and  rich  in  good  works  has  ceased  to 
exist ! 

That  this  man  who  touched  human  life  at  so 
many  different  points,  and  everywhere  with  clean 
Christly  helpful  contact,  everywhere  doing  some- 
thing and  giving  something  to  help  man  Godward, 
has  passed  away  forever  from  conscious  being  and 
development  ! 

That  this  man  like  the  psalmist’s  tree  “planted 
by  the  rivers  of  nature  and  bearing  fruit  in  old 
age,”  is  now  plucked  up  by  the  roots  ! A fire  that 
kindled  into  a living  glow  many  a sad  heart  in  this 
cold  selfish  world  has  burned  itself  out  into  ashes  ! 
A shining  light  that  led  many  a voyager  across  the 
stormy  sea  of  life  has  at  last  gone  out  itself  into 
the  blackness  of  darkness  forever  ! 

My  fellow  men,  does  such  an  awful  contradic- 
tion as  that  appeal  to  either  your  judgment  or 
common  sense?  In  the  very  nature  of  things  we 

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are  forced  by  this  noble,  unselfish,  godly  life  to  cry 
out  a thousand  times  “No.”  Every  instinct  of  a 
true  nature  demands  something  grander  and  more 
glorious  than  all  that  can  be  compassed  in  the  life 
that  now  is. 

Blessed  be  that  Gospel  that  brings  life  and  im- 
mortality to  light  by  the  very  existence  upon  earth 
of  such  a character — that  declares  that  all  the  past 
is  but  the  germ  of  a glorious  future,  bringing  in  a 
completion  that  eye  hath  not  seen  nor  ear  heard, 
nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to 
conceive.  Blessed  be  the  Son  of  the  Eternal  God 
who  says  : “Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father  enter 
into  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world.  For  I was  sick  and  ye  visited 
me ; I was  hungry  and  ye  fed  me  ; I was  naked 
and  ye  clothed  me ; in  prison  and  ye  came  unto 
me.  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me.”  Blessed  be 
the  Gospel  that  declares  that  life  here  is  not  the 
end  but  the  beginning ; the  grave,  not  the  grave 
of  any  child  of  God  but  only  of  the  earthly  house 
he  stopped  in  a little  while. 

Blessed  be  the  voice  that  cries  from  innermost 
glory  to  every  such  life:  “Where  I am  there  ye 
shall  be  also,”  and  “they  that  turn  many  to  right- 
eousness shall  shine  as  the  stars  forever.”  Thank 
God  the  very  fact  of  such  a life  demands  immortal- 


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ity  as  the  only  reasonable  explanation  of  its 
existence.  There  must  be  another  life  to  explain 
and  complete  and  perfect  all  of  which  this  life 
only  begins. 

"There  the  faded  flowers  shall  freshen," 

Freshen  nevermore  to  fade  ; 

There  the  shaded  skies  shall  brighten, 

Brighten  nevermore  to  fade  ; 

Brothers  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 

Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 

There  the  band  is  never  broken, 

Partings,  claspings,  sighs,  unknown  ; 

Midnight  waking,  twilight  weeping, 

Heavy  noontide,  all  are  gone. 

Brothers  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 

Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest.” 


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